Clove
by TeamCinna
Summary: Who was Clove? District 2's girl tribute. The overshadowed partner of Cato. Katniss's enemy. She was also a human being, with feelings, insicurities and dreams.
1. Chapter 1: Just the Beginning

**Chapter 1 Just the beginning**

I smiled at my trainer. He gave me a curt nod and threw another knife. I dodged it was ease. More and more began to fly, and I sidestepped them. They were no big challenge. I ached for a challenge. He began to increase the speed and number of knives he threw at me. Every one missed. I thought about this year's Hunger Games. I wanted to win. I wanted to join the famous victors. And I was ready. My thoughts drifted to the boys training. Who would volunteer this year? Maybe Bryn. No, he still had a few years. It would be out of the eighteen year olds. Cato? I thought deeply. Cato would be the approved choice. If not him, defiantly Damien. I continued to ponder till my trainer's voice interrupted me.

"There is nothing more I can teach you."

I turned my attention to him.

"There is nothing more I can teach you Clove, I can only hope you keep a cool head in the games."

I swelled inwardly at the praise. "Thank you."

He nodded. "I'm not saying you will win, but I have faith that you will triumph."

I nodded. "I will make you proud."

He nodded again and dismissed me. I strode confidently down to my home. A few of the boys had been released early from training too. I guess it was because the reaping was in an hour, and we needed to be prepared.

Cato walked up to me. His massive frame was menacing, but I didn't let him see that I thought that. He grinned at me. "Heard you're volunteering this year."

I shrugged. "So what if I am?"

He winked, making me feel sick. "If you are, we'll be a team."

I rolled my eyes. "The only reason I would ever team up with you, would be if our mentor forced me to."

Cato shrugged. "We'll see about that."

I huffed and walked up the porch steps to the front door. Who did he think he was? Did he see me as a weakling, someone he had to protect? I turned the knob of the door. As soon as I opened it, my mother was on me, brushing out knots in my hair, and cleaning my face at the same time. I pushed her away.

"Let me have a bath first!" I growled and stormed to the bathroom.

A bath was already run for me. I slipped off my training clothes, and slid into the water. My mother had put some stupid bubbles into the water. I sighed and began to wash off the dirt. My mother entered the room and collected my clothes, and placed a beautiful red dress in their place. I groaned at the matching shoes. The heels were at least 10cm high. I stuck my head under the water and washed my hair.

Just under an hour later, I was dressed in a stunning, strapless red dress, with matching strappy heels. My mother had done my hair into an elaborate bun, and my face was plastered with her make-up. Tears were running down her face. I ignored her. I couldn't deal with the weak right now. My father came up to make and gave a nod.

"At least you'll look good up on that stage." He commented.

On that note, my mother burst into uncontrollable sobs, and rushed out of the room.

I sighed. "Life is for the brave."

My father grunted and followed her out.

I straightened up, and walked out to join the crowd in the town square. It was already over half full. I took my spot in the seventeen-year-old girl's area. I looked over for Cato. He was watching me too. I flicked my raven hair at him and faced the front.

Slowly, the square filled with children. I looked around the girl's area. Who would I save today? A few of the twelve-year-olds were crying, hugging each other. I rolled my eyes at them. How weak could you get? The girls in my group knew better. They knew that I would volunteer today. None of them were worried. Some glared at me with disgust, but masses looked at me with praise and thanks shinning in their eyes. I smiled at them.

Once they concluded that everyone was here, the mayor began. He gave his annual boring speech about whatever it was that the Hunger Games were meant to represent. Blah blah blah. I straightened up as the escort, Relia Venner, took to the stage. She thanked everyone, and told them what a privilege it was to be here. Then she dipped her hand into the boy's ball of names, and grabbed a slip. Silence.

"Lionel Haart."

An astonished looking fourteen-year-old began to walk up. I heard a parent sob in the crowd. Lionel walked up and shook the mayor's hand. The mayor smiled. "Are there any volunteers?"

Cato stepped forward. "I volunteer for Lionel Haart."

Cheers erupted from the crowd. Several people slapped Cato on the back as he walked up to take Lionel's place. The noise from the cheers blocked out the exchange of words flowing between Cato and Lionel, but I could tell that Lionel was gushing.

It's your turn next. The realization struck me hard. Bile rose in my throat. Life is for the brave. I thought defiantly.

Relia smiled. "Ladies next!"

She reached into the ball and grabbed a slip of paper. I realized I was holding my breath. Silence again.

"Vinnie Kall."

A twelve-year-old burst into tears, sobbing and crying. Her friends hugged her. "Be brave." I heard it over the sobs of others. Vinnie nodded and began to walk up to join her place by Cato. The mayor shook her hand. "Any volunteers?"

Silence

I realized that this was the part where I said, I will volunteer for Vinnie Kall, but no words came. I was a mute. Cato glared at me. Confusion and anger were in his glare.

"Me!" I called, finding my voice. "Me! I, I volunteer for Vinnie Kall."


	2. Chapter 2: Getting there is half the fig

**Chapter 2 **

**Getting there is half the fight**

I ran up to the stage. The mayor nodded and shook my hand. Vinnie stared, wide-eyed.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you so much!" she sobbed. Cheers had begun for me too.

"Don't mention it." I smiled at her. She ran back to join her friends, who hugged her again, tears of joy replacing those of sorrow. I searched the crowd for the parents. A middle aged woman with light blonde hair, identical to Vinnie's, looked at me with undying thanks. I didn't meet her gaze. I couldn't face it. I looked for my own mother. She was clinging to my father's arm, new tears forming. I looked away from her too.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please applaud your tributes for the 74th Hunger Games, Cato Foster and Clove Vaill."

Applause filled the air. I felt sick. I turned to Cato, who looked brutal, standing stanch and tall. I thought about my appearance right now, I was on camera! I sent the crowd a dazzling smile and held myself up tall.

Cato turned to me and smiled. "Isn't this what you have been waiting for? They love you already; you don't even have to prove yourself."

I nodded absently.

After they got everyone out of the way, they whisked us up to the justice building. The building was massive. We rode a shiny silver elevator up to our separate rooms, where we would say goodbye to loved ones.

Mother and Father were the first to come in. My mother grasped my hand. "Promise you'll win. Swear."

I looked at my mother. Her brown eyes were filled with a desperate emotion. Something I didn't need to see. Hope. Hope that her daughter would kill others so she could live. Hope that they could live a life without fear of dying young. I shook her hand away. "You seem to forget that I am trained for this. I am a killer." Maybe the more I said it, the more real it would become.

My father looked at me. He didn't say anything for a long time, then he said; "You're better with knives than anything else.", and then they were gone.

The next people, I didn't expect. Vinnie and her sullen mother appeared at the doorway. Vinnie ran over to me, and her mother followed awkwardly, not sure what to do. Vinnie pulled me into a hug. I was taken aback at first, but in the end, I returned the hug. "Thank you." She breathed in my ear. I nodded, "You're welcome."

Vinnie's mother smiled wryly at me. "I will never forget you." She murmured.

I nodded to her, and they both left.

A few friends came and told me how they _knew_ how I was going to win. I wasn't paying much attention. I was thinking about the arena, the other tributes. People came and left, and then I was on the train to the Capitol.

It wouldn't take long to get there, as we were the second closest. I walked down to my room. I was much bigger then my room at home, but my house was only a typical one. Still nice, but nothing to really boast about. This single room though, this was the dream room. I lay down on the bed and kicked off my shoes.

Relia came past and smiled at me. "Everything here is at your disposal. Use whatever you like."

I looked around. I would take Relia up on her offer, but first, I decided to get some rest, I would need as much as I could get.

When I awoke, I knew we were close to the centre of the Capitol. I could hear people screaming and cheering. Cato was at the window, waving at them. I joined him. Time to win over the crowd. Multi-coloured wigs and clothing greeted us. A sea of purple and orange, blue and red, green and yellow and gold and silver. Certain features stood out. Surgically implanted gems into people's faces. Dyed skin. Tails and claws implanted for the bizarre people to resemble their favourite animal. I forced a natural smile onto my face. Cato was at my side, staring them down with brutish force. I found myself staring at him. It was hard not to. He commanded attention. Every inch of his muscular body seemed to scream 'I will win'. I didn't let my fear show, because to be honest, he terrified me. The fact that he could kill me with a single punch made me shudder.

As we rolled into the tribute training area, I took a deep breath, and put on a mask of fearlessness. I would not let Cato see how scared I was. We were taken out of the train, and Relia escorted us to our stylist's areas.

We still hadn't met our mentors I realized. Relia assured me that we would see them soon; they were just very busy at the moment. I rolled my eyes. Of course they were too busy. Much too busy to teach two kids how to survive.

We took an amazing glass elevator up to the stylist's rooms. Cato nodded to me, and walked off to his stylist. I turned and followed Relia to mine. She talked the whole way down, about how they had just had a move up of stylists, as one from our district retired after last year's games. She said the new one would be 'such a hit'. Apparently, he had been all the talk in 'certain circles' through the Capitol. She opened the door, and informed me to be back in time for the tribute's parade around the town square.

I turned to my stylist. He had bottle green hair, and light blue eyebrows. His eyes were gold, and his eyelashes so long, they had to be fake. I didn't know why he had been all the talk in the Capitol. He didn't seem that different from all the other stylists, who were just as bizarre, if not more. "Clove!" he piped in a voice that was similar to that of the high-class people in our district. I didn't like the way my name sounded in his voice. He rolled it round, like it was a foreign dish that he didn't quite know how to pronounce. "Clove." He said again, becoming more familiar with it. "Clove Vaill, I am Jirone and your stylist this year."

I gave him a smile. He grinned back and narrowed his eyes. "I'll get my other stylists to get through the basics with you, and then I'll show you what you'll be wearing."

He clapped his hands and two female stylists came in from the other room. "Clove, this is Floria and Blavious."

I gave them a smile. "Hello."

They both gave a curt nod, and turned to Jirone for instructions. Jirone smiled. "I want you to enhance all her features. High eyebrows, full lips, long lashes, the works." He instructed. The two stylists nodded again and began to work.

I sat there, patiently, as the stylist's worked on me. Floria was a small woman with hair dyed a bright pink that hurt my eyes. She buffed and cleaned my nails, painting them sparkling silver. Blavious was wider, and had skin dyed orange. She dyed my hair with temporary silver streaks. She then piled it on my head, and let it fall in a shower of ringlets. I hated what they were doing. Making me seem girly and pretty. I was supposed to be representing the stone that was mined in the quarries of our District.

"Right. Come with me Clove."

I followed Jirone down to the end of the room; where there laid some garments in a long white bag. He pulled out a long white-silver dress that looked like crushed graphite. The hem reached my mid-calf, and was bright silver. It was strapless and showed off my tall frame. I stepped into the shoes, which were a delicate glass. I gasped at them.

Jirone smiled. "I thought they might have that effect."

I walked a little in them, and then my make-up was re-done; silver everywhere. I looked at myself in a full length mirror. Sure, I looked nice, but who would bet on a pretty rock. I wished they had gone for another part of our districts professions. Weapons would have been a seller with the crowd. I smiled a bit at the thought of turning up in bulletproof gear, with guns strapped to our backs and knives lined in a belt. Perfect.


	3. Chapter 3: Who is the enemy

**Chapter 3  
Who is the Enemy**

I waited by the carriage, stroking the silver-grey horses that matched my dress. I thought about Cato. Would he be matching, or in a weapon get-up? I almost missed him stride towards me. He was in a silver tuxedo, with shiny black shoes. However, in one hand, he held a pick, similar to the ones used in the quarries. I scowled. What would I give for a weapon in my hand, something to cling to, making me feel less flimsy.

He smiled at me. "Look at you!" He looked at me like I was something to eat. An elegant dish made by the Capitol, ready for him to devour.

I glared and got into the carriage. Cato looked confused for a second, wondering why I had ignored him off like that. It had probably never happened to him. He got over it though, and climbed in beside me. "Smile." He said, though his vioce sounded different from before. A new kind of edge had entered it. Anger? Suddenly I was scared. But I pretended not to care by rolling my eyes. I didn't need coaching lessons from him. He wasn't my mentor.

The District 1 carriage began rolling out of the centre, followed by us. We smiled and waved to the crowd. We were favorites, but that wasn't new. District 2 tended to get in good with the sponsers before the games even begin. Suddenly, a roar passed through the mass of people, and I could tell it wasn't meant for me. I looked behind me to see flames. Past District 3, past 7 past 10, my eyes landed on 12. The most pathetic little district in Panem. I whipped my head around and tried to continue smiling, but all screens dominated the burning pair. I saw Cato's face harden and his fists clench. I leant forward and grabbed the rim of the carriage, maybe it was wrong of me to judge Cato for his anger, because right now, I could feel it too.

"Katniss! Peeta! Katniss! Peeta!"

The crowd cheered for the two as we did our final round. I was now glad that I didn't have the pick in my hand, because it would probably be embedded in that brat's skull. District 12. 12! Could this crowd of light-headed Capitol freaks not see through their bold flames? Could they not see the history of District 12? Twice they had won the games. Twice out of seventy three times. District 2 had twenty times more than them.

"Here I am." I growled to myself. "Look at me, the next victor."

We listened to the President's dreary speech, but none of us were listening. Even the President seemed to get lost in his own words as the flames flickered in his eyes reflection. Cato's eyes however, had taken on a dangerous glint. One that would give me nightmares if I wasn't on his good side. Just as their flames died, we were shipped off to the training centre by ourn stylists.

Jirone smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry. District 12 will be forgotten as soon as you enter the arena."

I didn't count on that. I wanted that District 12 girl's death to be unforgetable.

We entered our room. The second closest to the ground floor, we arrived quickly and were greeted by an amazing sight. Through the double glass doors lay an amazing living area. A lounge, kitchen and dining room streached before me, each area larger than my house. How many people did they expect to live here? This alone would hold my small neighborhood. This would be our home from now on.

Instead of relishing in the beauty, I stormed into the lounge area and watched to re-cap of the reaping's. District 1 was expected, two careers. Then us. District 3. Girl career from 4. 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, then them. The girl's desperation was laughable. Her pleading. Her voice grated my ears. Pathetic. The boy was then called, and the screen went black.

I was reassured by the girl's scrawny appearance. Small, extremely so. How old was she, 15, 16? Nothing. And skinny! Had she ever had enough to eat in her life? I smiled, reassured. No challenge.

I walked back to the dining room to see that they had started dinner without me. Cato had changed out of his costume and washed off the make-up. I realized that I was still wearing the silver dress. I considered going to take it off, but the smell of food beckoned me. I sat down looking just like I did when I was on the chariot.

Polite small talk passed between Cato and Relia. I didn't join in. Eventually everything went quiet. Relia stopped talking. I looked up to see a broad man enter the room. He looked like Cato, only larger, taller and older. No, there was a difference. Instead of pure anger in his eyes, there was comtempt. He had acheived what he intead to do. A killer. I gulped slightly. "Er, Clove and Cato, this is Brutus, your mentor." Relia's voice sounded awkward and strained.

Brutus walked towards us. He stopped and stared. His first question was directed at Cato "How old are you boy?"

"Eighteen." Cato answered evenly, both of them eying each other up. I could feel the tension rise, and felt inclined to run away, and not have to look into the dark eyes of the killer.

Brutus huffed, beaten by Cato's stubborn nature.

I winced as he glared at me. "And who the hell are you? You're a volunteer? You're not much bigger than my leg."

I wanted to point out that he was about thirty years older than me, and male, but that wouldn't do me any favours. I regretted not changing out of my costume now. He would see me as flimsy and girly.

He turned to Relia. "Is this the best we've got?"

Relia opened her mouth, but then stared at her shoes, embarrassed.

Brutus spat on the ground and left the room.

Cato snorted. "Well _that_ went well."

I glared at him, but ended up cracking a smile. "Stop it Cato, you know he's out lifeline. We _need _him."

Relia was flustered, and had gone a deep shade of beetroot. "Yes, well he was one of the best tributes I, ah, hmmm." She struggled for words.

Cato shrugged and left the table, not really caring.

I followed after him, feeling almost bad leaving Relia by herself.


End file.
